


new rules

by roasthoney



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friends With Benefits, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Religious Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-08-23 00:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roasthoney/pseuds/roasthoney
Summary: If they're going to do thisthing, they're going to need some rules.





	1. Chapter 1

If they're going to do this _thing_ , they're going to need some rules. Jinyoung isn't quite sure how to define it — friends with benefits? Buddies who get each other off? It all sounds crude and oddly common, like they're normal guys doing normal things. But it starts like this: Jaebum is sexually frustrated. He knows it, Jinyoung knows it, the whole group knows it, the managers too. It's obvious from his contained but still explosive outbursts and the pure fact that they've been under a dating ban throughout puberty and people have needs. 

Jinyoung likes to think he's good at handling his own needs. Jaebum, not so much. 

So there's an arrangement. By arrangement, it means after one of Jaebum and Mark's more troublesome fights, it's Jinyoung calmly entering Jaebum's room and telling him he needs to find a solution or else he may or may not castrate him if he doesn't find some way to loosen up. 

"Excuse me?" Jaebum's jaw drops comically low. Jinyoung would laugh if the mood wasn't so tense. 

"Hyung, I know it's hard."

Jinyoung internally winces at his unintentionally bad pun. 

"You're obvious. We're all in the same boat, but you need to find some way to relax." 

Normally Jinyoung wouldn't bring up this sort of thing. Why _is_ he bringing up this so blatantly; him, the conservative church boy, alluding to Jaebum's libido and by association his dick too.

"I — uh. I'm not sure what you're talking about — are you talking about?" Jaebum fumbles with his stilted words because this must be some kind of fever dream; he's not sure this is real.

"Is your hand not enough?"

Jaebum sputters and wheezes and oh god he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. Jinyoung, on the contrary, looks as cool as a breeze on a perfect summer day. 

"Jinyoung, you, I. Why are we discussing this?" A spark of Jaebum's temper jumps to the surface but Jinyoung handles it perfectly, as if he'd expected and planned for this. 

"Because I have hands too, hyung."

And Jinyoung leaves it at that. Jaebum slowly puts the pieces together and his dick — ever the traitor, practically jumps in excitement. Hands that aren't his own on him. Jinyoung's hands, which now that Jaebum's looking at them look too perfect to be real. Slim fingers, strong joints, the kind of hands you'd expect some prince to have. Hands that, right now, are offering to touch him. His palms must be so smooth and soft. They're made for stroking, really. 

"How about... we just try it?" Jinyoung asks in that low, sweet, voice of his and Jaebum's tongue feels so heavy in his mouth — like some dumb, inarticulate, thing that forgot how to form words. Jinyoung raises a hand as if to show he comes in peace and he cocks his head, gaze too calm for this situation, obviously waiting to move until Jaebum says yes. 

"I, uh." The tent in Jaebum's basketball shorts tells him _yes, god yes,_ but Jaebum isn't sure how this will go. They live and work together and Jinyoung is a guy, a man, a hot blooded human also with a dick between his legs and somehow that thought doesn't deter his erection in any way. 

"Hyung, you can say no. It was just — an idea, don't think too hard about it," Jinyoung says to fill the awkward silence as he lowers his hand and smooths out any leftover bumps with an impressively diplomatic tone. His mouth forms a thin line — disappointment, maybe, but it shifts to a generic placating smile before Jaebum can really process it. 

"Wait — no. I mean yes, yeah. Let's just... try it?"

Jaebum cringes at his own tone — he sounds like some blushing teenager about to get his first handjob. Well, in a sense it is his first but he isn't a teenager anymore and he'll assert himself as such, thank you very much. He sits up straight and puts on a confident face. "Yeah, I'm down." For a moment he forgets what it is he's actually agreeing to, as concerned as he is with maintaining a cool face, but then Jinyoung's hand reaches for him and lands somewhere on his thigh. 

Jaebum does _not_ jump in place. However, he is now painfully aware of how close they are on his bed and how he's not sure where he should be directing his gaze. Looking into Jinyoung's eyes feels, well, awkward. He's not sure what he would find there. So instead he looks down at the top of Jinyoung's hand and its slow crawl upward. His breath catches when Jinyoung cups him. Warm, wonderful, completely different and leagues better than his own hand. Jinyoung moves differently too. Slow and measured. Not clumsy, yet not forceful. He begins to palm Jaebum's cock and his breath hitches, eyes closing, head tilting back to hit the headboard. 

Not looking makes this easier. It's not Jinyoung's hand, just _a_ hand, rubbing and holding and squeezing. A pause, then he's pulling Jaebum's dick out of his shorts and he is aware of how he must look. Yet he doesn't care. His skin is on fire and pleasure, sweet and hot, erupts from each touch of Jinyoung's hand. The fingers that map him from base to tip and patter against the shaft, a solid grip, a stroke that's too dry so Jaebum winces but a pause and the sound of Jinyoung spitting later (and that sound is somehow erotic, Jaebum can imagine his lips shining as it dribbles out) and it's wet, warm, perfect. 

Jaebum is sweating. From something as simple as this, sweat beads on his forehead and dampens his skin. His entire body feels like a taut wire being pulled tighter and tighter with each deft stroke. His cock must be cherry red by now. Jinyoung's thumb rubs at the head and Jaebum's thigh twitches and he swears, low and dirty under his breath, chokes it out again when Jinyoung takes that as a cue to repeat it. Jaebum can hear it — the slick sound of his hand sliding up, and down, his own heart pounding like a drum in his ears and either he's breathing hard or that's Jinyoung across from him. Jinyoung who smells good, clean like bay yet sweet and tart like ripe blackberries. He wants to bury his nose in his hair and take a deep breath, he does. He's not sure why. It might be the haze of pleasure and the accompanying scent of sex in the air. 

Jaebum doesn't mean to but he opens his eyes. He looks and there Jinyoung is, cheeks blood red, gaze set on Jaebum's cock, bottom lip pinned between his teeth in a painful bite and Jaebum comes with a guttural moan and his hips stuttering up as if there's something more than a hand to thrust into. He closes his eyes and waits for a solid moment before they flicker open again, so Jinyoung can't tell he took a shameful glance, and this time Jinyoung looks more like the one he's used to. Still pink cheeked, but composed as he plucks a tissue off Jaebum's nightstand and wipes his hands clean. 

Jinyoung coughs, looking like he's trying to will the color on his face away. "Well?" he asks, as if this was some kind of exam. 

_Passed with flying colors!_ Jaebum's mind unhelpfully supplies because a cheery joke to break the mood is really the way to go here. "Uh, yeah." He blames his lack of words on his current status of limp against the headboard. But it seems to communicate enough for Jinyoung to nod and cross his arms. He looks like he's thinking so hard his brain might break. 

"Okay. Well, we'll need some rules."

Hold on, what?

> Rule #1. No kissing.

  
Jinyoung is extremely adamant about this one. Jaebum agrees immediately, because he's sure it isn't going to be a problem. Kissing is for couples and stuff. For people who want each other. This is different, and Jaebum certainly does not need a kiss to get off. The easiest rule by far. Piece of cake.

Except it's not. Jaebum blames the blowjob. They should've just stick to handjobs, he knew it would be a bad idea to change, because the moment you involve new things it all goes upside down. It happens, really, in Jaebum's humble opinion, because of Jinyoung's impatience. He's been stroking for what feels like ten minutes and Jaebum can see the frustration in the furrow of Jinyoung's brows. Jaebum isn't sure why it's not happening — the setting is the same as usual, his mood the same too, and it feels wonderful but it doesn't really seem to be enough. 

Jinyoung tries every trick in the book. Twisting his wrist, rubbing the underside, anything that's worked before but all it does is seem to send Jaebum further down the spiral of incredibly turned on but nowhere near release. 

"Jinyoungie, I don't think it's working," he concedes because he knows Jinyoung is much too prideful to accept defeat. "I can. You can stop, I can figure it out," he pants, and maybe it's his kind _hyung_ voice that sets this off. Jinyoung shifts forward, and down, and oh god Jaebum thinks he might die because that's a warm, wet, mouth and plush lips and his tongue licking at the head of his cock. "Jinyoungie," he breathes, and he can't see his face but he kind of wishes he could. He can only feel him bobbing and sinking down further with each move, a pulsating red hot heat, Jinyoung choking when he goes too quick. It's nothing like his hand. It's leagues better and Jaebum curses louder than intended, a constant drum of _fuck fuck fuck_ , reaching without thinking to tangle his fingers in Jinyoung's hair. 

There's — Jaebum thinks that's a muffled moan he hears. He tests it, tugging at the strands, and there it is again. He pushes Jinyoung's head down, and again. 

"You like that?" Jaebum asks as he guides his head up, and down, and up enough for Jinyoung to come off with a lewd pop and look up at Jaebum. Looking down at him like this, this image in his lap. His lips so red Jaebum wants to kiss them. His eyes wide and pretty — but not defenseless, or cowering, nothing like that. Jinyoung's always had a strong gaze and now is no exception. Jinyoung doesn't offer Jaebum words. He just nods, so slight that if Jaebum blinked he would miss it. 

"Fuck." Jaebum comes hot down Jinyoung's throat as he holds him down onto his cock and judging by Jinyoung's face afterward, the greedy bob of his throat swallowing it all, he liked it. 

" _Fuck,_ " Jaebum swears afterwards because the thought of kissing should now disgust him since Jinyoung's mouth would taste like his own cum but it only makes him want to kiss him more. Kiss him hard enough to choke on his tongue too, the way he choked on his cock. Pant curses into his mouth and nibble those plush, full, lips. 

He doesn't mention it.

> Rule #2. It won't be reciprocal.

  
This one, Jaebum fights against. "Isn't that unfair?" he asks because it feels unquestionably selfish to get all the benefit and not give any of it back. It's also a bit insulting — who said Jaebum's incapable of touching a dick himself, for the sake of being a good and fair person?

Jinyoung gives him a look. "It's simpler this way, hyung. This way we keep it short and no one gets carried away." Read: _I_ don't get carried away. But Jaebum doesn't realize what he actually means so he scratches his head and agrees to it. "If you say so, Jinyoungie."

Somewhere around the fifth time, Jaebum notices that Jinyoung is hard too. He hides it well by how he angles his body away after the deed is done but Jaebum sees the imprint in his baggy sweatpants and he can't look away. 

Jinyoung catches him looking. For a moment, Jaebum thinks he might get sworn at for being a pervert. It feels like something taboo to be looking at it and wondering why. If this is just an arrangement, if neither of them are actually into each other, then Jinyoung shouldn't be hard from something like this. Jinyoung, instead of reprimanding him, turns away in what feels like embarrassment. 

"Are you sure?" Jaebum asks because it still feels unfair to be the guy leaving Jinyoung frustrated like this. Sure this started to solve Jaebum's temper issues, but that doesn't mean Jinyoung doesn't deserve some stress relief too. Jinyoung doesn't answer. Jaebum leans forward and puts a hand on his shoulder but it startles him, has Jinyoung clambering up to his feet and pressing down on his dick with the heel of his palm. "Rule number two, hyung," he says as a stern reminder. It would be intimidating if he didn't practically flee the room right after. 

Jaebum doesn't feel hurt. Not at all. 

It's just, well. Jinyoung didn't have to run _that_ quickly from him.

> Rule #3. Not all the way.

  
When Jinyoung writes this one down, Jaebum raises his eyebrows. "Not all the way? What's that mean?" Jaebum plucks the pen from him and examines the paper (because of course their rules have to be in writing, it's the only way it's binding). "Shouldn't we be, I don't know, more specific?"

Jinyoung nabs the pen back and says with a touch of huffiness, "you know what it means. It doesn't have to be so... explicit."

Jaebum snatches the pen and his orgasm induced good mood is already showing. "I mean, it's rules. The whole point is they tell us what we can and can't do, Jinyoungie." 

"Fine." Jinyoung has that look in his eyes. The competitive one. Jaebum knows in the brief pause that he brought this upon himself. "No fucking. No sex. No putting that dick, in this ass. Is it clear enough now, hyung?"

"Crystal," Jaebum mumbles and is so busy regretting his teasing he misses the bright red tips of Jinyoung's ears.

> Rule #4. No feelings.

  
This one Jinyoung doesn't write down. This one Jinyoung tells himself standing outside of Jaebum's door moments before he proposes this whole thing. This one is the most important one. It's the reason all the other rules exist, why he stares at Jaebum's lips but doesn't touch, why he hurries to his room after each session and jerks off — mouth pressed against a pillow to muffle the sound of him moaning Jaebum's name — while the memory is still fresh.

This is the one he's already broken.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule #1: No Kissing.

Jinyoung is good at planning things. That's what he tells himself at least, and it's the comfort he holds to his chest like a rosary walking into a exorcism as he sets things into motion. He isn't, perhaps, the innocent and charitable person that Jaebum might think he is. He doesn't enter Jaebum's room thinking about the well being of the group and the frustration that Jaebum suffers under. He thinks about himself. He thinks he can allow himself this selfishness, this ridiculous and frankly dangerous behavior, as long as he has a plan and sticks to it. 

As long as they keep the lines clear and maintain his painstakingly created rules, they'll be okay. Jinyoung won't ever be fully satisfied of course — he wants all of it, not just his fingers wrapped around Jaebum's dick, left to fantasize and salivate for possibly the rest of his forsaken life. But he can only have some of it, if he's careful, so he settles. 

The problem is, the only risk Jinyoung factored in was his own self control. He didn't bother thinking about Jaebum's — because there's no reason to think Jaebum will want more, for various reasons. Jaebum respects boundaries, so he'll respect rules. Jaebum isn't gay, so the prospect of him doing something like _catching feelings_ is logically impossible. Jaebum doesn't want _him_ , he wants relief, so there'll be no silly fantasies about Jinyoung's alluring body enticing him into mindless lust. 

Jinyoung isn't a stupid, blushing, teenager anymore who feels painfully obvious — peeking bashful looks at Jaebum when he's shirtless or deep throating bananas in poorly planned photoshoots. He's older, poised, mature. He knows what he's doing here.

It'll be fine. 

\---

Jinyoung doesn't _love_ sucking cock. It's messy, somewhat embarrassing, and he has high standards on how clean the other person has to be. Sometimes they push too fast and Jinyoung doesn't like gagging. Despite how much he's into it, it still feels like something foreign shoved in his mouth. Plus, it takes way too long and he dislikes when his jaw starts to ache from the effort of it all.

Sucking Jaebum's cock, however, Jinyoung thinks he could do forever. He _salivates_ when he sees the sheen of precum wetting the head of Jaebum's dick. He wants that weight on his tongue and the girth of it in his throat. He's not sure why; something about being denied anything more makes him want to shove Jaebum's cock inside the only hole he's allowed himself to give. He tastes, smells, like something intoxicating. When he thinks about how he must look to Jaebum — lips plump and shining, cheeks hollow, bobbing up and down like he was made for it, Jinyoung's knees go weak and he's instantly, achingly, hard.

It's reserved for the short half hour segments of Jaebum's life he spends alone with him doing things they don't tell anyone else about. It doesn't get mentioned anytime outside of that window and Jinyoung thinks that's part of what makes it work too. He isn't like Jackson, eager to boast about his latest sexual exploits or loud about anything that would make a preteen boy giggle. Jaebum isn't like that either and, well, Jinyoung thinks there might be an element of shame keeping Jaebum from acknowledging it. 

Jinyoung can live with that. He didn't ask Jaebum for acceptance, after all. 

His assumptions are why _this_ comes as a surprise. They're touring and the show feels the same like any other, an exuberant rush and jet lag and joy and exhaustion all at once. A cocktail of traveling, performing, and on the next flight without a moment to think about how many more shows there are. Maybe tonight's _is_ a little different — Jinyoung feels more energetic than usual, like he's got this burning itch under his skin that needs a scratch. Like when he looks in the mirror it comes with thoughts about how good he looks. Not in a vain way — but confident, self-assured, amplified by his own frustration that bubbles up sometimes. 

So he dances a little harder. Plays around a little more. Sweats bullets and relishes the drip of sweat soaking his shirt. Tastes salt on the corner of his lips and makes faces inappropriate for any audience younger than this one. It's the thrill of performing and the thrill of hearing the wall of sound blast back at him in clear approval. 

The show's over and they're scattered around the back gathering their things as the staff sorts it all away. All Jinyoung's thinking about is how much he needs a shower, heart still pounding hot and fast, head bobbing to some imaginary track in his mind. The post-concert adrenaline takes a while to fade sometimes and everyone usually gives each other space until it wears off. 

Usually. Except tonight Jaebum greets Jinyoung with a hand gripped around his forearm and an unreadable look. 

"What — hyung?" Jinyoung asks because this is both sudden and irritating. He doesn't like to be dragged around, not even when it's Jaebum. Or especially when it's Jaebum and Jinyoung has no clue about what this is about — if he's pissed off about something, a new thing to fight out, and Jinyoung tenses because their fights are always the worst. Jaebum too prideful and Jinyoung too stubborn. Sometimes it feels like they're all harsh edges instead of harmonious and there are sparks where there should be calm. Double meanings and cold shoulders. Pettiness when Jinyoung doesn't want to be petty. Jaebum's like that — able to bring out his worst side, the worst version of him. 

They're grown up together for so long it's hard to tell which parts of him were made alone or made with Jaebum, together. 

Even so, Jinyoung lets himself be led instead of dragging his heels and a traitorous part of him starts to hope when Jaebum leads them into a closet of all places. This isn't — no, Jinyoung refuses to hope this is some ridiculous romantic drama where the passionate couple sneaks off to a closet to fool around. 

Jaebum doesn't say anything. Jinyoung waits for him to — he isn't going to bow down and inquire here. So the closet fills only with the sound of their heavy breathing. It's too dark to see anything inside; there's only the thin beam of light underneath the door. 

Jinyoung caves. Of course he does, as always. "Well —"

"Suck me off."

For a moment the closet feels like a vacuum. The pressure enough to crush his head. Jaebum talks so fast it comes out as a slurred single word and Jinyoung thinks he must be hallucinating. 

"Excuse me?" Jinyoung asks, because this is not the time nor the place. He can't see Jaebum's face — he must be joking, right? Some kind of joke God is playing on him here. 

There's the sound of Jaebum fumbling and he sounds embarrassed, almost, "forget it, that was stupid, I'm." He reaches for the doorknob but Jinyoung's hand shoots out to stop him. 

God, he's serious. Jaebum means it. Jinyoung thinks his ears might be melting off with how hot they are. This feels different from Jaebum's bedroom. It smells like sweat but that only turns Jinyoung on more. They could get caught in a second. Jaebum exposed and Jinyoung with his lips wrapped around him. 

Jinyoung drops to his knees. He doesn't have to say anything. Jaebum curses, pained, above him. Fingers right to Jaebum's belt, fumbling, then on velvet hot skin and his mouth, without hesitation, swallowing him up. It's dirty and dangerous to do this in a storage closet of all places but that makes it better — makes Jinyoung test his own limits and ease Jaebum's cock into his throat in mere seconds. Until his lips touch the base, coarse hair brushing his lips. 

He doesn't think Jaebum will last long. Not when he's this hard already and Jinyoung feels Jaebum's hips start to stutter. That won't do — Jinyoung reaches up to grip Jaebum's hip and keep it still so he can keep the heavy rhythm he's already set, bobbing so hard it sounds pornographic.

He loves it. Fuck, he does, the power of it paired with Jaebum's cock filling him incoherent. And when Jaebum reaches down to dig his fingers into Jinyoung's hair and shove him harder onto his dick, Jinyoung is sure he's seeing stars, moaning low and guttural. He thinks he could come in his pants like this, untouched. But he doesn't find out because Jaebum is shooting hot and fast down his throat so sudden it makes Jinyoung gag. 

Still, he doesn't pull away. Not until Jaebum is done and slumped against a shelf behind him. 

"Shit, you alright?" Jaebum finally asks after catching his breath and Jinyoung nods. Until he realizes Jaebum can't see him, so he rises and dabs at the corner of his mouth and his chin to see how much spilled. 

"Yeah, I'm okay."

His throat sounds completely fucked out. Jaebum is silent again. And maybe, with their eyes adjusting, Jaebum might be able to see Jinyoung's tongue swiping out to lick off what's next. The hot flush on his cheeks and his glassy eyes. The spit slick shine of his plump lips. Jaebum surges forward, hands clutching at Jinyoung's shirt as if they're a lifeline keeping him contained, and his mouth is hot and wet on his. Fuck the rules — Jinyoung's still hard and aching and he's wanted this for so long, he kisses back hard enough to have their teeth clinking. Hard enough to have him panting again. Maddening, Jaebum's tongue sweeping over to catch the sticky corners of Jinyoung's mouth and the taste inside. 

As fast as it comes, it's over. Jaebum separating and keeping them at arm's length separated, hands on Jinyoung's shoulders. 

"Thanks. I, uh. I should go." 

And just like that, Jaebum's shoving his dick back into his pants and stumbling out the door. 

Jinyoung thinks he might laugh. Easier than trying to figure out what just happened, or crying. Jinyoung isn't one to weep anyway. He drops back to his knees, grazes his bruised and buzzing lips with his fingertips, and jerks himself off in the dark mouthing and cursing Jaebum's name all at once.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule #2: It won't be reciprocal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on trying to give this a plot but here we are. Thanks for all the comments and kudos, I love hearing what ya'll think! I don't use twitter but I made a [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/roasthoney) if you have any questions, or would just like to chit chat about JJP/GOT7/things.

Fuck. Shit. _Fuck_. Jaebum knows he's fucked up. He panicked. He didn't know what to do or what to say so he ran after demanding a blowjob, getting it, and then breaking the first rule Jinyoung so sternly laid out for them. _Fuck_. He's pacing and this close to tugging the hair out his scalp if he pulls any harder. Luckily they're escorted back to the dorm in different cars and it gives Jaebum some time to mull over all of the mistakes he's ever made in his life ten times over. 

This one is high up on the list.

Not because Jaebum regrets it — especially not the kiss, electrifying enough to make Jaebum want to jump into a studio and start writing words to hummed melodies. He regrets how he went about it. Jinyoung must be pissed off — frankly Jaebum wouldn't blame him if he was. But there's a chance that his mindless indulgence will end the whole arrangement and the thought of that happening shouldn't alarm Jaebum this much.

He knows it's supposed to be temporary. At least, that's what he assumed based off how little reason they have to do it. Dating bans are temporary. Idol life is temporary too, and someday they'll each find a girlfriend and settle down without it making too big of a fuss in the news. Or maybe, well, Jinyoung could have a boyfriend instead. Not as public but it's possible. 

Jaebum's not sure how to think about it. It turns his stomach and he wonders how that's possible when he's kissed a man already. The only thing it did to his stomach then was making it flop around and tighten as if he was holding his breath waiting for the drop in a rollercoaster to come. 

That's not normally how kisses go for him. That was all bite. Bumping teeth and bruised lips. Kisses with girls are soft, sweet, led by him until they deepen and even then it's for a purpose that overshadows the whole kissing part. You hit first base before second base, it's a well known pattern. 

But kissing Jinyoung. That's a home run in itself — and Jaebum continues to panic more because he's finally tasted a fruit so sweet only for it to be taken away from him.

Jinyoung goes straight to his room without a word. Jaebum lets him because, well, he's not sure what else to do.

\---

Two months is more than enough time to spend pondering. It's a suitable amount of time to give when you want to allow someone space, Jaebum thinks, which is why he takes the two months of absolutely cordial silence with grace. It's not noticeable on stage — Jinyoung is the paragon of professionalism, he isn't so young as to let it bleed through and affect their image. Jaebum likes to think himself an adult and he can handle it so, can do what people their age do in the strange dance of modern love or courtship or whatever this is between them. 

But after two months and three days, not that Jaebum's counting, he picks a quiet evening to amble over and knock gently on Jinyoung's door. There isn't an answer at first. Then he hears shuffling, the sound of a book being set aside, and a low, "who is it?" 

"It's me." 

Because Jinyoung should know his voice by now. He doesn't need a name. It's him, only him, could he be expecting anyone else coming to him for a reason like this?

The question feels unexpectedly unpleasant settling into Jaebum's stomach. 

More shuffling, then, "come in." 

Jaebum isn't sure where to look or sit when he steps in and closes the door behind them. Last time they were in a room alone together, well. They both know what happened and its apparent based off the subtle tension between them. Jinyoung is sitting on his bed, arms crossed, and the look on his face is serious but Jaebum can't help but think of him still as his cute dongsaeng with his big ears and his gentle eyes. 

"Hey." Jaebum settles for perching very carefully on the edge of the bed. "How're you doing?" He winces at his own question. Asking like Jinyoung is some terminal patient and he's here to send him off with flowers, please. They used to chat easier than this, everyday almost, and not talking to Jinyoung feels like not talking at all sometimes. 

"I'm doing well, hyung. Did you need something?"

Typical Jinyoung cutting straight to the chase. But Jaebum likes it, likes how in his own way he's come to depend on Jinyoung to keep his edges clean and his life in careful order. He doesn't have to worry so much about messing up — his temper, his harsh tone, his brusque sense of humor, as long as Jinyoung is there with a watchful eye, it all gets smoothed out. 

"I wanted to apologize." It's not easy for Jaebum to do so and Jinyoung should know this — Jaebum hopes he knows this, at least. "What I did last time — and we don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to, but I wanted to say. I have to say. I wish I... handled it better, and if you're pissed at me I get it. You told me a rule to follow and I broke it. Should've respected that."

Jinyoung takes his time to mull it over. Sometimes it's painful too, this side of him. Jaebum waiting and waiting when his patience is already so thin. But he waits, eyes on his own palms turned up on his lap, mouth in a thin set line. He doesn't need to grovel, but he does want to communicate the weight of his sincerity. Jinyoung knows him. Jinyoung _should_ know him, better than anyone else. The thought repeats in his head as some form of comfort. 

"Hyung." Jaebum's head remains bowed so Jinyoung shifts closer, blankets rustling underneath him, nudges at him through his honey toned voice. "Hyung, look at me." 

He does. There's no anger on his face, no trace of irritation. "Are you so scared of my answer?" Jaebum takes the question seriously as seen in his furrowed brow and Jinyoung continues before he can respond. "Don't be. This is — I don't know. It's complicated. I appreciate your apology. But I'm not upset, and I wasn't before. It was — confusing. Really confusing." Jinyoung makes a perplexed face of his own and oh god, Jaebum thinks, he wants to fucking kiss him again. "You did that, then you didn't say anything. Next time you can just talk to me."

"I thought you'd want space," Jaebum explains hastily, "that's what I hear, good advice, when you do something like that give the other person space. Or something." 

God, what is it about Jinyoung that makes him feel like a bumbling teenager again. He'll never know. But this feels like a weight off his shoulders and he should be able to sleep easy now. 

"Alright, maybe the space helped. If you tried to talk to me after, well." Jinyoung's face crinkles up into a smile and Jaebum is not fooled, he knows his innocent looks do not translate to fragility. "It wouldn't go this well."

It is going well, isn't it? Jaebum suddenly feels a bit reckless. He came here to apologize, true, but that's not the only reason. He turns his body towards Jinyoung; his shoulders slouch, relaxed; the bed feels a lot smaller now. 

Jaebum shouldn't do this. He should say, _alright, Jinyoungie, sleep well,_ and haul his ass up and walk out that door. He should forget the whole arrangement and count this peace as a blessing because as long as this continues, the risk of messing it all up continues too. There are other people to think about. Their jobs to think about. The eyes of others on them. He should leave — yet, Jaebum was always bad at following _should_ instead of _want_.

"Was it so bad," Jaebum asks without warning. Breathless, again, because Jinyoung is a thief of air. 

"Kissing me, I mean. Was it so bad?"

Jaebum needs to know. He's not sure why, but he does. Needs it more than anything he's needed in a long time. Jinyoung doesn't answer at first. A cocktail of emotions so complicated Jaebum can't begin to untangle them flashes across his face. Then, as if he's in some casting call, a look so unreadable Jaebum wishes he took acting classes too. Maybe he'd have better luck trying to figure out what those eyes mean. The silence stretches on and Jaebum thinks he should feel awkward but it's a different kind of tension again. 

Two months. He misses him. He wants to say that too, but his reckless mouth holds back for once. He's seen him everyday yet he misses him. It's hard to explain. Like being lonely in a crowd of people, or craving something you specifically cannot have. He misses him.

"No." 

Jaebum for a moment forgets his original question. _No_ sounds so grim like some curt rejection. But it's soft instead of hard, so quiet it would be easy for Jaebum to miss it. Hesitant as if Jinyoung isn't sure if he should say it as he says it. Not unsure in his answer but if his tongue would like to form the word and let it out into the wild. 

"Wasn't bad at all." Vague, yet as rich as a novel full of words to Jaebum's ears. 

"Not bad?" Jaebum licks his lips. He knows Jinyoung sees it, even if those carefully controlled eyes don't flicker down to look. He could make some smartass comment here to diffuse the tension. He doesn't want to. "So you wouldn't mind." It's more like he's talking to himself than asking Jinyoung a question. Checking with himself, asking himself, preparing himself as he leans in. Closer and closer. "So I could." 

Jinyoung stays where he is, closes his eyes, and that's all the confirmation Jaebum needs to press his lips to his. 

This one isn't as sharp. This one's sweet, but in a way that's new to Jaebum. Ripe — something earned after years of getting to know someone like this. Addicting and firm. Minutes pass, neither of them sure how long. Jaebum's hand rising to cup his jaw. His nose, gently pressed against Jinyoung's cheek like this — like they were made to fit together. 

Jinyoung is the one who changes the tone. The one who licks at the seam of Jaebum's mouth — tentative, but still hungry, and Jaebum feels his desire flare into something different. He doesn't want to drag Jinyoung's mouth down; he wants to taste it. So he pushes Jinyoung down onto his bed and the hurried sound of their wet mouths meeting is enough to make Jaebum dizzy. Jinyoung's body against his — it's something novel, warm and solid, firm and muscular yet pliant underneath his and god he thinks Jinyoung's legs are spreading so they can hook around his waist, and it's glorious. Dazzling and sinful all at once. 

"Jinyoungie," he murmurs between kisses, feels it reverberate out from deep inside his bones, "the other rule." For someone so fastidious Jinyoung is a rumpled mess already with his mouth a bruised pink. "What?" he asks, not exactly paying attention because Jaebum is heavy on top of him and when he cants his hips up there's the most delightful pressure. 

"The rule," Jaebum repeats with a touch more urgency because he wants to rock down but these fucking rules won't let him. "You said," his breath catches when Jinyoung sucks on Jaebum's exposed neck since he insists on talking, and it's good enough to make his whole body shiver. "You said, the rule. I couldn't touch you." 

_I couldn't_ — implied that he wanted to, badly, very badly. 

Jinyoung's hands slip under Jaebum's oversized t-shirt to feel the warm skin underneath. It's torture, feeling it but having to wait for an answer to do anything in return. Then again the pause before Jinyoung's answer might be because Jaebum is kissing him so relentlessly he barely has time to breathe let alone talk. 

"Fuck the rule." Jinyoung growls. Jaebum melts. He laughs, too, because it's the only way to react to something so brilliant. He rocks down and feels Jinyoung's body shake alongside his. The outline of Jinyoung's cock pressed against his, layers of sweatpants and pajama bottoms, but it still feels good enough to make Jaebum thrust again, and again, the dry friction a mix of pleasure with a hint of pain. Jaebum doesn't feel any of the latter and if he did he wouldn't care. He wants this. Rutting against Jinyoung and devouring his mouth, tasting his tongue, tangled up and sweating and loving every puff of air panted out of Jinyoung's mouth. Jinyoung isn't very loud, but that's what makes the small noises he does make sweeter. His hips may not be the kind Jaebum is used to grabbing but that doesn't stop him from doing it. 

They're so close Jaebum could imagine. Instead of rough friction it could be skin to skin. It could be something deeper. "So hot," Jaebum groans and reaches underneath them to palm at Jinyoung's ass and finally feel them in his hands. Of course he's looked — he isn't blind, but to touch and know how firm. How they might sound if he smacked against them. 

"Fuck, hyung, I'm —" Jaebum swallows the subsequent moan because they can't let anyone else hear. Not this. That, and because the sound of Jinyoung desperately trying to kiss around it is intoxicating. Jaebum follows close after with a shudder and the sweet afterglow blanketing his shoulders. He collapses on top because Jinyoung won't break from this and because it feels good, being this close. Even after release it still feels good. That thought should be alarming but all Jaebum wants to do, and does do, is bury his nose against Jinyoung's neck and take a deep inhale. Home. This is what it feels like. 

"I missed you," Jinyoung mumbles and it feels like an accident for Jaebum to overhear. A vulnerable moment he's happened upon by chance. Jinyoung doesn't let him pull his face up so he can see his expression, and that's alright. Jaebum can stay here instead. 

"Yeah."

He's not sure what he's doing but he at least knows this. 

"Me too."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule #3: Not all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this took as long as it did! I like writing chapters all at once in one go but this one required some actual thought. I might have to do two more chapters instead of one, but it’s not going to be more than two. as always, love hearing reactions!
> 
> oh also, i have a jjp drabble collection [milk & peaches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16843225) if people are interested in reading snippets in between real actual story chapter updates. that's all!

So Jinyoung isn’t exactly sure how he’s doing. He tells himself he has this under control and even if a few rules are broken that doesn’t mean the rest are. There’s no slippery slope here, they’re not going to spiral into something overcomplicated and unmanageable the moment a few kisses get exchanged. Jinyoung’s kissed plenty of people before. Jaebum too, and since they’re two generally responsible adults Jinyoung figures it should be fine.

 _Should_ being the key word here.

The problem is this — Jinyoung did not calculate in the possibly of Jaebum getting greedy. He thought it would be fool’s talk. In a clear friends with benefits relationship like this, there’s no room for speculation over truly unlikely things. Jaebum getting greedy belonged in the category of late night fantasy material, not actual possible reality to consider coming true.

Jinyoung blames the kissing.

Jaebum slips into his room every night now. Sometimes he doesn’t even say hello, just knocks, walks in, and presses his lips against Jinyoung’s, said lips already parted as if he’s so eager to have a taste he can’t tolerate waiting. 

Jinyoung is weak. He lets him do it. Lets him break the rule over and over again because when Jaebum’s mouth is on his it feels so wonderful it lets him forget they exist. Forget rules when Jaebum’s hands are on his face and he likes to stroke, with his thumb, the spot where Jinyoung’s mole used to be on his jaw. Forget precaution when Jaebum pushes him onto the bed and lines their bodies up. 

Honestly, Jinyoung would like to lead the kissing sometime. But already receiving this much is a blessing and Jinyoung is scared to test it. If, for example, Jaebum comes to his room for something else and Jinyoung is foolish enough to go in for a kiss — and if Jaebum recoils, or worse declines him with a pitying look, Jinyoung thinks he would wither. 

So he maintains a very careful balance of only giving as much as he’s given and nothing more than that. 

Tonight, Jaebum is in a mood. Jinyoung can tell. Jaebum keeps looking at him with a maddening gaze. They’re filming their music video and Jinyoung almost wants to snap at him with a sharp look, tell him _stop that, I can’t focus_ except he doesn’t really want him to stop and he thinks it might be presumptuous to think he’s staring. 

Jaebum already looks sharp around the edges but when he looks at Jinyoung like this, Jinyoung becomes aware of how intense he can be. As if he’s already on stage and Jaebum is the one below watching his every move, watching the sweat roll down his neck and thinking of what he’d like to do to that droplet. As if they’re alone in a room instead of surrounded by staff and directors. 

As if he wants him, and he’ll do anything it takes to have him. 

It’s a dangerous look at a dangerous time. The filming continues well into the night and by the time they’re done, Jinyoung is exhausted from having to try twice as hard to concentrate with Jaebum’s eyes on him. 

Jackson asks everyone what they’re doing, if they want to go out for drinks and as usual it’s a chorus of _yes_ until it gets to Jaebum. 

“No thanks, I think I’ll head back early. Get some rest.” Jaebum’s tone is perfectly neutral but his eyes — they stay on Jinyoung, and he knows what to say without really knowing it. 

“Me too. Been a long day,” Jinyoung adds after a measured pause. 

There’s nothing usual about Jaebum and Jinyoung being the only ones home. It’s like that often — they’re both homebodies and Jinyoung likes the peace of it, the privacy. 

Right now that privacy means something else. 

In the car it’s just them and the driver. Quiet, so still he could hear a pin drop. Jinyoung doesn’t ask if he’s thinking too hard of if his guess on what the plan is for the night is correct. 

Then Jaebum’s hand slides to rest on his thigh and Jinyoung can’t breathe. It doesn’t move. It doesn’t do much of anything, really, except radiate a heat that Jinyoung thinks might burn a hand shaped print onto his skin. Except that thought doesn’t help, because the idea of being marked by Jaebum in a visible way — in a way he can keep, when Jaebum ends this, it makes his blood run hotter. 

But Jinyoung isn’t called an actor for nothing. He stays completely still and his face doesn’t shift even once. Instead he stares out the window and watches the scenery zoom by without seeing it at all. The only give is when he undoes the top button of his shirt. 

He can feel the weight of Jaebum’s gaze on him. 

He can feel Jaebum’s thumb twitch, as if he’d like to squeeze but stops himself at the last second. 

Jinyoung’s not sure why his skin feels so hot. The tips of his ears are burning. He undoes the next button and there’s the twitch again, a move so slight it’s addicting to induce. He reaches the third and that’s the lowest he can go without getting odd looks from anyone else who might see him. 

So he moved onto other things. He folds the sleeves of his shirt up, lines incredibly crisp with how slow he’s going. In the dark Jinyoung can hear how Jaebum starts to breathe deeper, heavier. 

Higher, Jaebum hand goes. Higher, the rate of Jinyoung’s heartbeat goes. How his hand slides up and feels the shape of his thigh, mapping out his muscles, like an artist molding clay. 

Jinyoung knows he should tell him to stop because if the driver notices he won’t know what to say. But, when Jaebum finally grips his thigh tight — Jinyoung has to tip his head back, speechless. Barely a touch and he’s already falling apart. In a sense Jinyoung is ashamed. Not of this, what they’re doing, but how quickly he succumbs and turns into a mess. How much he doesn’t care about breaking the rules. 

“Jaebum.” His name puffs out of Jinyoung’s mouth, hot and wet. 

They haven’t talked about this — dropping honorifics, using Jaebum’s name. But judging by how Jaebum slides up and cups his cock, he approves. A hiss escapes through Jinyoung’s teeth and the noise is loud enough to catch attention — so his own hand darts out, pushes Jaebum’s hot palm off of him. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want it, but the risk is too high. He knows it’s a rough move and even now Jinyoung doesn’t act carelessly. Jaebum is — he’s not _sensitive_ per se, but he thinks about small gestures in big ways. Jinyoung knows him well. He’s learned, too, after years of witnessing Jaebum dwell over acts that the perpetrator didn’t think twice about. He understands because he’s the same. When Jaebum talks about it with him, Jinyoung gets it in a way that makes his heart buoyant and his heart ache. 

If he could have him. If he could get _him_. But those thoughts are dangerous and Jinyoung doesn’t allow himself to dwell. 

He has enough to think about — after pushing Jaebum’s hand away, instead of letting go, he holds it. Palms down and fingers loosely intertwined. Jinyoung meant to, yet he didn’t, and for a moment he has to hold his breath as his head spirals from the whiplash of not knowing what to do. Holding on feels like something more. Letting go feels like rejection. 

Jaebum holds on. He even tightens it, which makes Jinyoung’s mouth go dry. It’s only in the dim light of passing streetlamps that Jinyoung can see their hands; he sneaks looks at it, half in awe and half in disbelief that an image like this is real. He’d take a picture but he doesn’t have his capture and still, it wouldn’t capture the feeling. 

This feeling. Pure, yet terrifyingly deep. Something nostalgic like when Jinyoung thinks about his childhood, and something thrilling like when Jinyoung thinks about what’s to come. 

He tries, desperately, to burn it into his memory so when it all ends he’ll have a fragment to return to. 

“We’re here.” Jinyoung says thank you on autopilot and the walk up to their dorm is a blur. His hand feels empty now so he occupies it by punching in each number for their door lock with a little too much force. He doesn’t know what to expect. It’s all jumbled up, his head, so he lets his body lead the way. Shoes off, slippers on. The click of the door behind Jaebum. Jinyoung turning to say something — 

“Hyu —” 

And Jaebum intercepting him mid-turn to pull him into a burning kiss, hands on his face. 

It steals all thought out of him. 

“Not that,” Jaebum rasps between nibbling at Jinyoung’s bottom lip and Jinyoung isn’t quite sure he understands. Not this, Jaebum’s tongue sliding against his, or not this at all. Not him. 

“Hyung?” 

Jaebum pushes him against a small table near the door hard enough for the dish on top to slide and clatter. 

“I said — not that.” 

Oh. 

“Jaebum,” Jinyoung breathes out as Jaebum bites at his jaw and clutches his hips. “Jaebum,” he repeats, firmer this time, his own hands reaching to tug Jaebum’s hair back as he leans forward, chasing him with rough lips. 

They shake, bouncing from wall to wall, until the back of Jinyoung’s knees collide with the couch and he’s tipping back, falling, trusting. 

Jaebum watches him fall. Jinyoung’s not sure why — what business he has looking at him like that, like he’s beautiful. So he grips the edge of Jaebum’s long shirt and yanks him forward. There’s no resistance. 

The times before, they weren’t like this. Wild and tender yet frighteningly real. Those times were rushed and quiet and clean. Contained, like a list of rules packaged in a neat sheet of paper. This is undefined. 

Jaebum pops the buttons out of Jinyoung’s shirt with one sharp pull and Jinyoung gets him back for it by raking his nails up his abdomen as he pulls Jaebum’s shirt off. Jinyoung swears he’s going to stop wearing such tight jeans because they’re too troublesome to take off, and he flings Jaebum’s belt across the room when he finally gets it undone. 

The couch is leather and Jinyoung feels it sticking to his back already, sweat and heat, and he imagines how it might feel with Jaebum thrusting into him. 

Jaebum, in him. The thought makes Jinyoung’s neck and ears flush a dark red. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Jaebum asks because he notices the color and he knows what it means. He’s seen it before enough times to tell and somehow that feels more exposing than being completely bare on his back, legs spread, Jaebum kneeling in front of him so not quite touching. 

“I — nothing.” 

Sometimes, Jinyoung is a terrible liar. He palms at Jaebum’s arms to distract him, gesturing him to come close already like they usually do. If they rut against each other Jaebum won’t see how his body writhes, how it blooms crimson and wild for him. 

Jaebum doesn’t budge. 

“Like seeing you like this,” Jaebum says as if he’s confessing something and all Jinyoung can think is _oh, fuck._

Jaebum’s gaze is too penetrating. If he looks long enough, Jinyoung thinks he might be able to figure this whole thing out. His foolish desire to keep his heart hidden — exposed for those eyes to see. He wanted Jaebum’s eyes on him but not like this, dangerously vulnerable and moments away from becoming something meaningful. 

Jinyoung rolls his hips up like a wave, cresting, yet Jaebum still doesn’t move. His gaze rakes him bare. 

“Come on,” Jinyoung says in a way that he tries to make seductive, but it doesn’t work, “touch me,” he says a beat later and he grimaces at how desperate he sounds. How out of control. 

That at least seems to do something. Jaebum’s hands are on his thighs again squeezing from bottom to top and Jinyoung feels the same heat from earlier in the car return. The same sensation that Jaebum is touching him to map him out, memorize him. But before he reaches his cock, he leans down and does the same thing to Jinyoung’s forearms. 

Holding him and higher, higher, until their hands meet again, the tips of Jaebum’s fingers sliding up his palm. 

It’s too much. 

Jinyoung turns around before he can finish. On his hands and knees, face now hidden, ass bare and offered. 

“Like this,” he insists, and Jaebum is silent instead of jumping on the opportunity. Jinyoung can’t see his expression — he doesn’t know what it could be. After a pause, Jaebum wordlessly agrees with a kiss so tender to Jinyoung’s bottom before he’s shifting and lining his cock up so it slides between. 

The first drag of it is impossibly good. 

“Jinyoungie,” Jaebum chokes out the first time Jinyoung tries tentatively rocking back to meet his shallow thrusts. Embolden by the approval, he rocks again harder this time and Jaebum meets him with equal force. Jaebum pauses only to spit in his hand and slick his cock so the friction isn’t as rough and Jinyoung moans at the new feel of it. Relishes the smack of his ass against Jaebum’s thighs, like how it would be if Jaebum would just — 

Even the back of Jinyoung’s neck flushes a deep red. 

Unexpectedly, Jaebum leans down and catches the edge of Jinyoung’s ear with his teeth. A nibble, a kiss, a curious murmur. “I know you’re thinking about something and not telling me, Jinyoungie.” 

Damn Im Jaebum for knowing him this well. 

“I’m,” Jinyoung tries to explain but Jaebum decides to take Jinyoung’s cock into his hand at that moment and he forgets how to speak. He drops to his elbows, rests his heated cheek against the cool leather. “I’m, ah, not.” He buries face into the couch — he’s so obvious, he knows, so mortifyingly open with his heart bleeding out making a complete mess of things. 

“You are,” Jaebum says but doesn’t insist as he thrusts and strokes him to the same rhythm. With his other hand he turns Jinyoung’s head so it isn’t hidden and he’s gentle too, so that it doesn’t twist his neck too hard. 

His mouth returns to his, hot. 

“I’ll wait. ‘Til you’re ready to say.” 

Jinyoung’s thighs are shaking. _Fuck_ , he thinks. He’s completely fucked. Dizzy and desperate and loving every second of it. Already he feels his orgasm building and it’s too soon but he can’t stop it, as strong as it is. 

“Fuck,” he swears, rutting into Jaebum’s grip as he rocks back against his cock, “if you. Fucked me, God. Jaebum.” 

Jaebum’s mouth falls to meet the side of his, so uncoordinated it’s simply the heat of them breathing each other in. And at the thought of Jaebum slipping into him, filling him, he’s panting and biting his tongue so hard it stings — to muffle the moan. 

Jaebum doesn’t last long either, vocal compared to Jinyoung’s restraint with his loud groans, release smearing onto Jinyoung’s lower back as he frantically slides. 

It’s quiet after. Jinyoung doesn’t know what to say. Jaebum’s barely holding himself up over Jinyoung’s body and the heat of his skin is close enough that Jinyoung can feel it. He can hear his heart, the damned thing, and he curses again and again in his head. 

That wasn’t control. 

Jaebum is the first the move by wiping the mess on Jinyoung’s back off with his discarded shirt. It snaps Jinyoung out of it, and he moves to get up so none of it gets onto the couch. 

“We should clean this up before they get back,” and Jinyoung can try but he can’t stop the slight panting, the heave of his chest. 

“Yeah, they shouldn’t see this,” Jaebum says as he nods in agreement. Logically it makes sense that they wouldn’t want the rest to see cum streaks and ripped clothes laying around the living room. But still, it makes something inside Jinyoung’s chest ache even as he returns the nod and begins to pick up his clothes. 

It’s tense. Something about tonight feels unresolved and Jinyoung knows he should say something but he doesn’t. 

“Is it okay if I shower first?” he asks instead. 

Jaebum looks at him, unreadable, gorgeous with his hair mussed up and his skin shimmering from sweat, still kneeling on the couch even as Jinyoung stands, as tempting as he is unattainable. 

“Yeah, course. Anything you want, Jinyoungie.” 

Too tender. 

Jinyoung averts his eyes, turns away with as much dignity as he can muster, and makes the shower so hot his whole body flushes crimson all over again. He scrubs at it, hard, as if he’s trying to scrape it off but it only turns redder and redder — on and on, until it stings sharp and he has to stop before he breaks skin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some needed introspection to set up the rest. Chapter numbers just keep getting higher and higher... Humbled by all the kudos and kind words, thank you! As always love hearing reactions.
> 
> Warning for some religious themes and minor talking about sex.

“What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“You know, stuff. With two people. Things.” 

Jaebum is young, red, and awkward. Fifteen years old and asking his hyungdeul in the bboy crew he’s in questions about mortifying topics. But his curiosity wins over shame, and the older boys are often encouraging him to look to them for knowledge. 

He loves his mom, of course, but it’s not the same. He loves his step-dad too, but it’s awkward to talk about these things. 

Woojin, a nice guy who’s fairly popular with girls around here, grins and ruffles up Jaebum’s hair. 

“Ahhh, that kind of stuff. You curious, young grasshopper?” Woojin pulls him into a headlock next and Jaebum splutters, reasoning that he’s turning pink because of the way the hold cuts off blood to his brain. “Well — yeah! I dunno. I want to know what to expect.” 

Jaebum wants to be prepared. He wants to be ready for whatever the world has in store for him. He wants to become a responsible guy, like Woojin (even if he should probably study harder), and maybe he’d like to try going on a date. Doing adult things like kissing and sex. He wants to try auditioning to be an idol too, and he heard trainees don’t get to do things like this so he aims to nip it in the bud beforehand.

The world isn’t kind — he knows this. His mom keeps telling him he’s growing up too fast, but that comment makes him proud. It means he’s going to be better prepared for taking care of his mom and making sure he’s safe, happy. He hears idols can make a lot of money — fast, and that means she won’t have to work so hard on the farm. She won’t have to worry about him and his admittedly poor grades. 

Dancing, it’s the only thing he’s good at right now. 

“Let’s see. It’s great, first of all. There’s a reason why people are obsessed with it.” The other guys around them laugh, are generally boisterous in their agreement. “But you need to be safe. I’ll tell you about that stuff later. Some people like doing it only with their girlfriends. Some people are more, you know, free about that.”

Jaebum doesn’t have a girlfriend but he thinks he likes the sound of that option more. “Is there a difference?” 

“What’d you mean?”

“Like if it’s with your girlfriend, or not.”

Woojin thinks on that. He has a girlfriend actually, a sweet girl named Eunha he met at his part time job who’s studying hard to get into SNU. She’s not like the other girls he dated before. She worries about him when he falls and hits his head, or when he shows her all the bruises he gets learning some of the harder tricks. They’ve been dating for half a year and for Woojin that’s the longest so far. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. It feels… special. Different. But not with every girlfriend. Only if she’s special.”

“How can you tell?”

Jaebum doesn’t usually ask this many questions, but he can’t stop here. It’s not about the possibly vulgar appeal of talking about it. 

It’s about love. Love means the other person shouldn’t try to hurt you, he knows that. Love isn’t slurred shouting and raised hands. Lost tempers and holes punched into walls. He knows what love _isn’t_. But he wants to know what it _is_. 

“You just know, bummie.” Woojin flicks his forehead hard and Jaebum yelps, clutching at the spot after because it stings. “You’ll know when you feel it, alright? Until then don’t think too hard. You think too hard for a kid.” 

Not that he’s much more of an adult himself. But Jaebum thinks, Woojin and Eunha, they make a good pair. Maybe he’ll try to find something like that for himself. Someone gentle who loves him, who understands him. Someone who feels special like that to him. 

He wouldn’t mind waiting for that.

\---

Confessional is hard. It used to be easy, but Jinyoung’s fifteen and things are a lot more complicated than they were as a child. He’s used to confessing his sins in the privacy of his own head and he used to like the sense of relief that would follow after. It’s better acknowledged and atoned than kept away, he learned from the sermons.

And with God being all knowing and all that, hard to keep any of it hidden for long. 

This one is tricky because Jinyoung isn’t exactly sure if it’s a sin. The rest are easy — pride, because his dance teacher praised him as his best yet and Jinyoung went and boasted about it. Greed, because he thinks about what it would be like to be rich and famous as an idol sometimes and he has to remind himself it’s about applying himself to his passion and not about the rest. 

He thinks this one might fall under lust. But not the standard kind — because when he looks at girls, he doesn’t feel much, but when he sees the older boys in higher classes at school it’s different. The kind of different that makes his palms sweaty and his neck clammy. 

Jinyoung doesn’t talk to anyone about it. He doesn’t trust anyone, he thinks, because he knows what people think about people like _that_ and it’s not positive at all. 

There will be a time someday, he hopes, when he’ll find someone who understands. Someone like him who can ground him, someone he trusts enough to lay himself bare for. Someone he can experience the world with. Maybe it’ll be sinning, but Jinyoung knows now that if this doesn’t pass like people say it will then he can live with that. The world doesn’t have to accept him, but if he can have that one person who does.

He wouldn’t mind waiting for that.

\---

“Hi, I’m Im Jaebum.”

Jinyoung quickly takes the hand stiffly offered to him for a handshake. The boy in front of him looks intimidating with his sharp gaze and his carved cheekbones. 

“I’m Park Jinyoung, nice to meet you.” 

“What, like the boss?” 

The amused question breaks the awkward ice between them and Jinyoung smiles, confident on camera but still a touch shy around the rest. He’s in Seoul and Jaebum must be one of those city boys who doesn’t even know where Jinhae is. 

“Yeah. If I become the boss, the company won’t have to change its name!” It’s a joke that could be easily misconstrued but Jaebum thankfully grins wide and amused at it. “It sounds like fate, or something like that.” 

Fate, Jinyoung thinks seven years later, is a funny thing. If fate is what brought him into the situation he’s tangled in now — he would like to have a very stern word with it. He once thought that it would be easy to simply stay single his entire career then find someone to settle down with once it ended. 

Instead he has this. Painfully in love with the one person who he knows better than anyone else. He wouldn’t call Jaebum his best friend because their relationship is too unique for something like that. He sees Jaebum more often than his childhood friends from Jinhae. They’ve had trials together, moments of conflict and stress that no one else really understands. No one else knows what it was like to be told their comeback was cancelled and the company was “exploring further options.” 

It worked out, of course, but the crushing disappointment. The self-blame — Jinyoung doesn’t realize until much later on that Jaebum felt the same for his own reasons. He’s the older one, Jaebum. Responsible for him in a sense. A leader. And if things fall apart, all eyes are on him.  
Jinyoung tries to make himself as solid of shoulder possible to lean on. Somewhere in that thought process, Jinyoung thought their arrangement had a place to belong. 

It doesn’t. Because they’re not fifteen anymore and Jinyoung has longed for so long he feels it baked into his bones. 

When Jaebum kisses him it feels right — it feels like relief, a confession made, an absolving of his sins. It feels like freedom and a future all in one. So he’s only kissed one person, him, he doesn’t care. One is more than enough. This one — he’s the one he wants. And surviving thus far has been Jinyoung telling himself that people can be fated to be apart as much as they’re fated to be together. 

They can converge, then separate. 

When Jinyoung has to watch Jaebum walk down the aisle with someone else, he knows that’s when the _separating_ comes into play and he is prepared for that moment to come. 

But until then, he’s temporarily allowed to press this thumb gentle against the two twin moles delicately placed on Jaebum’s eyelid. He can taste Jaebum’s mouth. Feel his desire, feel loved and wanted and fool himself into thinking this is more than it is. Someday he’ll find someone else too — it won’t be the same, but it’ll be better than being alone and maybe he can fall in love a second time. 

A quiet kind of love. A peaceful one that doesn’t shake the ground beneath his feet unsteady every time it shifts. A home with a family and a simple story with simple origins. 

A love returned. Maybe, then, love won’t feel so painful. So tangled up with his soul and all the other ugly things born along the way. It’ll heal instead of hurt and they’ll both be happy.

He’ll have to wait for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule #4: No feelings.

Things have gotten complicated, to put it simply. Jaebum isn’t sure what to do. When he thinks about it on his own he thinks he has control over the situation. But when he’s next to Jinyoung things seem to spiral out of control and next thing he knows he’s dazed and left standing alone. In some ways it isn’t a welcome change — Jinyoung’s always been by his side, always, since the first day they met at auditions with numbers taped to their front and jittery knees from the nerves. 

Jinyoung, a permanent fixture whether he liked it or not. 

The possibility of losing that makes his throat feel much too tight. Still, there’s a tension between them that hasn’t left from what Jaebum calls “the night on the couch” (he’s never been one for creative wordplay) and the way it festers doesn’t sit well with him. They’ve had their fights before — plenty, oftentimes explosive, but they fizzled out as quickly as they started because of both of their hot tempers. 

This one feels different. 

It doesn’t help that Jinyoung seems to be avoiding him — he tries not to take it personally, but hard to do that when the only person in question is himself and the only reason he can think of is himself. He takes it in stride. Tries to decipher the sometimes strange looks that Jinyoung gives him and offers him a questioning look in return — a silent _yes?_ in hope that Jinyoung will take it as his cue to come up to him and talk. 

He doesn’t. 

Nowadays Yugyeom says he has a permanent line between and above his eyebrows like a true old man. Jaebum gives him an enthusiastic chokehold each time to show how young he really is — but he knows it’s true, in that annoyingly insightful way Yugyeom can be sometimes. Jaebum didn’t know it was possible but he worries himself straight into a fever and as much as he loves his cats, they aren’t exactly the best caretakers. 

Everyone else is shooed away from his room in the hopes that the germs won’t spread and while it’s pragmatic, Jaebum finds it’s also a little bit lonely. It at least gives him time to think — but in his feverish state his thoughts sway in dizzy loops around Jinyoung, heading forwards and backwards and ultimately nowhere except for a fear that squeezes his chest tight. 

When Jinyoung actually shows up — he thinks it’s a fever dream. Some kind of hallucination in a facemask, and damn is Jaebum’s imagination good because he even got the size of his ears down. 

“Hyung, your imagination isn’t that good,” hallucinated Jinyoung says with fond exasperation and perhaps this is realer than Jaebum thought. 

“Jaebum,” he rasps out and Jinyoung raises a calm eyebrow at Jaebum saying his own name, “said, last time, you can say. Jaebum.” 

Jinyoung’s hands are _not_ shaking as he unbuttons Jaebum’s sweat damp shirt. It should feel seductive but it doesn’t — just intimate, like something a lover would do. “Jaebum. I said, your imagination isn’t that good. I’m real, okay?” 

Jaebum just nods with his eyes shut because Jinyoung’s cool fingertips brushing his skin threaten to make him shiver. Jinyoung dragging down the hem of his boxers, efficient, replacing them as quickly as he removed them. It would be nice to shower but Jaebum doesn’t try to suggest it — as much as he likes the idea of taking one with Jinyoung, he thinks he might pass out on him and that would be too shameful. 

“Jinyoungie.”

Jinyoung hums in answer as he wipes at Jaebum’s brow with a damp towel. Jaebum’s eyes flutter open and there he is, real and unreal. Real because he’s solid and present after how many weeks of being elusive. Unreal because he looks like one of Jaebum’s better dreams. Which reminds him —

“Dreamed about you.” 

Jinyoung’s hand pauses, then continues. “Did you?” he says with an admirably neutral tone.

“I did. You were there. Then — you weren’t. Didn’t know where you went. Couldn’t find you. Kept looking and I couldn’t, and I couldn’t tell. Didn’t know if you wanted to be found.” It’s a feverish ramble but even beneath that and the hoarseness of Jaebum’s throat there’s an aching, a sense of loss without knowing what’s lost. 

“Hyu — Jaebum. I’m here. It was just a dream, okay?” Jinyoung tries to sound as soothing and as firm as he can, but Jaebum sees through it. Or at least he thinks he does, because there are too many things he fears to make such a simple answer actually true. 

“Jinyoungie.” Jaebum’s voice is a low whisper. “Jinyoungie, c’mere.” 

“Jaebum.” His voice is a warning not to play any games.

“It’s important.” No budge. “Jinyoungie.” The man in question crosses his arms. “Please?” 

With a sigh, Jinyoung relents and leans in. “Jaebum, what is it —”

Jaebum doesn’t give him a chance to finish before he’s grabbing Jinyoung’s wrist and pulling him down onto the bed with him, tumbles him half on and turns, slings his leg above Jinyoung’s and shifts closer. 

“That’s better,” he comments simple and content. Their faces are close enough that Jaebum can feel Jinyoung’s breath brushing his cheek and it’s a sweet comfort. “Sorry. Might get you sick.” But Jaebum’s tone suggests the sorry might not be so simple and Jinyoung softens in his arms. 

“If I catch this, you’ll have to take care of me,” Jinyoung says, hushed, and the air is heavy with a feeling he’s never been able to describe. 

“You’re taking care of me now, course I will. I always take care of you.” 

As if he’s hiding his face, Jinyoung tucks it against Jaebum’s neck. His skin is hot to the touch from the fever but Jinyoung stays — sweats with him, warms up his shivering body. Jaebum doesn’t let just anyone see this side of him. The weak side, vulnerable and tender, saying things he’d normally keep in and doing things that belong in his head only as fantasies. Even Jinyoung hasn’t seen much of it before — in all the years they’ve known each other there’d been a wall between them, a line not to cross, a border between friend and _this_ that Jaebum can’t put a name onto. 

Something intimate. Something special. Jaebum wants more and he thinks as long as he asks but doesn’t name what it is, Jinyoung will give. 

“Stay,” Jaebum asks as he untangles the blanket and draws it up around them both. Hand splayed on Jinyoung’s back and he’s already fading back into sleep but he stays awake for the answer, forces himself to hold on.

“I’m here.” 

Relief. Jaebum drifts deeper down. It’s hard to hear, like going underwater, a dull blanket over his ears muffling any words that Jinyoung might say.

“You stay too, okay?”

\---

Sometime during the night Jaebum starts tossing and turning and shaking something fierce. There’s a cool palm against his forehead and arms wrapped around him, tighter and tighter, holding him through the fever as it wracks his body hard. Comfort murmured against his ears and a soft hushing, the kind that makes him realize the pathetic whining he hears is coming out of his own mouth, and he thinks about his mom.

Jaebum misses her. Of course he does — it was just them two for the longest time. His dad is his dad, no questions about that. But it’s lonely on his own and he’d told himself he doesn’t need anyone else — so he starves himself off affection, keeps everyone at a distance. 

Except for Jinyoung — his Jinyoungie, the only person who’s stayed long enough to feel like something permanent. Beyond their careers and company created groups, Jinyoung has a place in his life. 

Blackberries and bay, Jaebum buries his nose deeper and lets the familiarity of it drag him back down into rest.

\---

Jaebum wakes up aching. The good kind, the type where he’s hard and there’s a body blessedly pressed against his own. Not just any body, but Jinyoung’s in all of his morning glory. Bedhead, crumpled clothes, not the cleanest after sweating it out all night with him. The good thing is the fever’s gone — but it’s been replaced with a different kind of heat.

“Jinyoung.”

Jaebum’s mouth on his neck to taste his pulse and the way it quickens as he wakes up. His hands sliding slow and hungry up his shirt. Jinyoung turning, dazed as he awakens. His gaze meeting his and the way they talk without words. The fit of his lips against the nape of Jinyoung’s neck like a key turning into a lock.

“Jaebum.”

They’re two commas curled together, Jaebum the big spoon and Jinyoung the little. He circles his hips, a slow morning grind, and Jinyoung responds by gripping his side and pulling him closer. A tug at the hem of his shirt and there’s no need to ask, Jaebum knows. It all comes off and now they’re bare and Jaebum’s hands tremble. 

_You stayed._ Jaebum wants to say. He presses his palm against Jinyoung’s mouth instead and waits for him to lick. _With me._ Jinyoung shivers and leaves a long wet stripe with the flat of his tongue. A slick hand is all they have. But it’s enough — barely, wet enough to take the edge off as he presses the head of his cock against Jinyoung’s hole and waits for a sign. 

That’s all he does nowadays, wait for signs. It’s all worth it when Jinyoung groans his name and grabs at him like he’s a lifeline in a turbulent sea. “Please.” Tight, but Jaebum goes slow and adds more of his own spit and murmurs comfort against Jinyoung’s ear, feels the way his body strains and bends, hears the way Jinyoung both swears and sighs. 

Jaebum thinks about the rules. He drags out, pushes back in, and forgets. 

“Fuck,” Jinyoung swears and he sounds breathless, “fuck me.” It’s unfamiliar yet nothing new; Jaebum knows how Jinyoung looks when he’s covered in sweat and gasping for more air in his lungs. But the rest of it — it makes him squeeze Jinyoung tight and do just ask he asks for. Whatever Jinyoung wants, he gets, and Jaebum is more than happy to make this one come true. 

“Does it hurt?” Jaebum asks with measured thrusts. He doesn’t want to — he would never harm him. Jinyoung shakes his head no and that’s enough reason to lose control, dive deep into his body and take as much as he can have. 

It’s good. So good that Jinyoung arches back to meet him and Jaebum bites so hard into his shoulder there might be a mark left when they’re done. 

Jaebum’s fucked other people — but not like this. Never like this. 

“Can I?” Jaebum hikes Jinyoung’s thigh up so he can bounce against him harder, faster, and Jinyoung answers with a wordless kiss — neck craned all the way around so he can reach him, messy with only half a mouth but still sweet and wet. Jaebum takes it as a yes and thrusts into him as hard as he can — fills him and relishes the meaning of it. 

Jinyoung is his to fuck, his to fill, his to stroke over the edge with his cock still buried inside. 

Still panting, Jaebum says, “be mine.”

“What?”

“Be mine,” Jaebum repeats, pushing the sweaty strands of hair away from his face. It comes like a revelation. It has no hesitation, but also no thought. Pure feeling. “I mean it. Jinyoungie, you know this — it’s something special, something good. I know it’s not going to be easy, but.”

“Not going to be easy?” Jinyoung quotes back at him in a half hiss, the afterglow clearly fading as he separates them and turns so he can face Jaebum properly. “That’s how you’d describe this thing — that, I don’t even know what you’re asking for, first of all.”

“I’m asking for something more.” The high carries Jaebum’s feverish elation forward. “Something — real. Because this feels real to me.”

Jinyoung runs his hands through his own hair again and again as if restoring order to that will restore order to this too. “Something is still vague, Jaebum. These things can’t be vague.” 

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t.”

Frustration wells. “Why’re you being — like this?”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrow. “Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know. Difficult. I’m trying to tell you something important here. You know what I’m trying to say.” 

Jinyoung shakes his head and draws the covers up higher so he’s less exposed. “I don’t, hyung. I don’t know and that’s why I’m asking you.”

Jaebum doesn’t know how to put it into words. Dating feels insufficient. Love feels too early. This is all a new idea that’s just occurred to him so he doesn’t have much prepared, much articulated. Speaking well on emotional matters like these was never his forte. Yet Jinyoung is looking at him as if he expects him to try and then realize it’s all a morning fuck induced sham. 

He attempts a different angle. 

“Jinyoung, I like you. Be mine.” 

“How long?”

“Sorry — what?”

“How long have you liked me?” 

“I, uh, I don’t know. Just now?”

That doesn’t seem to be the right answer because the more Jaebum talks, the harder Jinyoung’s face becomes. He gets the impression that he’s saying something wrong without knowing what it is. 

“What about the consequences?”

Jaebum feels a bit like he’s in the army and getting drilled. “You mean, if people find out?”

“Yes, hyung. Jaebum. Our careers. Our families too. What you would be giving up. Do you think we could be together so carelessly?”

It stings. Jaebum doesn’t think that Jinyoung means to hurt him like that, but it does. He’s tried so hard to not be careless and for Jinyoung, the person who knows him best, to throw what sounds like an implied accusation at him — with an attitude that feels a lot like rejection, it hurts. 

Jaebum rises to sit up. He’s damp with sweat, skin a glowing bronze in the golden hour, and maybe he’s often called handsome but he sure doesn’t feel like it right now. 

“Careless, right. Sorry I didn’t think things through before confessing. And shit.” 

Fuck, Jaebum doesn’t mean to sound so bitter. He just wishes it went different. That it would all work out in the end like it does in the movies with star crossed lovers, people who love and declare it without any fear on how it will end. He swings his legs to the side of the bed and is about to stand before a hand on his wrist stops him.

Not a grip. Just fingertips brushing at the inside of his wrist; a delicate touch. 

“Jaebum, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.” This sounds more like Jinyoung, gentle and calm, and Jaebum doesn’t move. He can’t look at him but he can’t get up and walk away either. “I’ve… spent a lot of time, thinking about this. More time than you. I don’t mean to say I know more — but that it’s just unrealistic. I know you. Stubborn, idealistic, you. I know how you feel right now, after.” Jinyoung’s voice softens and wavers like water against the shoreline. “I know. I do.” 

His fingertips fall away. “It would be careless of us to. Your feelings are… new. Temporary, maybe.”

Jaebum wants to protest, but the truth is he doesn’t know either. It could be a fresh, fleeting, thing. It could be the physical intimacy, the loneliness. It doesn’t help that they aren’t given the freedom to date without worry, to really survey all of their choices and know that when they decide it’s the right one.

“I wouldn’t want to lose you.” Jinyoung voice nearly cracks, but it doesn’t. “That’s what I mean.”

_Fuck it_ , Jaebum thinks. _Let’s be careless._

“I get it,” he says instead. It’s all logical in the way Jinyoung’s head works — he _knows_ him, so fucking well that he feels like he’s adopting some of Jinyoung’s ache as his own. Jinyoung’s feelings are deep, that much is clear, so much more than his own that his words now sound flimsy and ignorant instead of the spontaneous, knee sweeping, way he’d wished for. 

Jinyoung isn’t one for grand romances. And Jaebum is too honest to pretend his own emotions are something they’re not. 

“I get it, and. I don’t want to lose you either.” 

There’s no need for apologies from either end but the silence feels empty between them. Jaebum rises off the bed. He wants to look at Jinyoung but he doesn’t, he can’t, not when he doesn’t know how his own face looks. 

“Let’s stop this. The help — I don’t need it anymore.”

The day they agreed to this arrangement feels so long ago. Jaebum wants to laugh at the pretense of it now that he knows the meaning behind it. Not in cruelty, but in amazement. It’d been under his nose the whole time. He doesn’t know why he brings it up again now, but he supposes it could be to close the loop. To end this entirely. 

Jinyoung rustles behind him and Jaebum can see his expression so perfectly right now. Pulling himself together. Eyebrows a tight line. Eyes blinking away any trace of glassy tears. But who is Jaebum to assume he’s so emotionally moved by this, when he’s the one who turned him down.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. We’ll go back to normal, you and me?”

That hopeful note in Jiinyoung’s voice, god. Jaebum grimaces. Nods. This isn’t going to be easy. 

"Back to normal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we hit 400! blessed. thank you all. one more chapter to go. as always love hearing reactions!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for internalized/internal introspection about homophobia.

Normal is a funny thing. That’s what Jaebum keeps telling himself, repeating to himself, because it’s the only way he can wrap his head around the concept. Normal. Becoming a trainee at a young age and spending half your youth creating a marketable image of yourself isn’t normal. Making so little then making a lot isn’t normal. Having sex with your coworker, who’s also sort of your family, who’s also a part of your livelihood — the thing you spent years building up, that isn’t normal. Falling for that said person, not normal.

So maybe Jaebum doesn’t know anything about what’s normal or not. 

Loving a guy, people say that’s not normal. But a girl — that’s normal. 

Jaebum meets her through an old mutual friend. Soyoung. She’s sweet, yes, a complete fit for her age and generation. She doesn’t pay too much attention to idols so Jaebum is thankful when she asks what he does and seems genuinely surprised by the answer. 

Jaebum doesn’t tell anyone else. Too early to tell, he reasons, and it’s not like he has to tell the rest. They have enough time in their schedules to fit in a few dates — then one thing leads to another, he’s getting a hotel for them to stay in, and it’s —

Underwhelming. 

Maybe being normal is always underwhelming. Maybe it’s because when he kisses her, her mouth is too small, and when he holds her waist he imagines the one he held before. She tastes good, but it’s not _good_. Like something that makes it hard for him to breathe. She’s pretty, but when she smiles her eyes don’t crinkle and he keeps looking at the corners as if he expects a few whiskers to appear. 

She doesn’t know him like Jinyoung knows him. No one does — no one’s earn the spot next to his grave quite like Jinyoung has, and he’s not sure if anyone ever will. 

She lets him down gently. It’s a relief because Jaebum spends a good few days trying to figure out a tactful way to end it. _You seemed distracted,_ she explains offhand and Jaebum curses himself for making it so obvious. 

He wanted it to be Jinyoung. He wants him, still, more than a simple body to feel and a way to let off steam. Jinyoung with his low chuckle and his sweet smile, his sharp comebacks and the way he lets Jaebum know that he isn’t going anywhere — not when he knows how lost Jaebum would be without him, how incomplete. 

And if this isn’t normal, he doesn’t want to be.

\---

Nothing’s really changed so Jinyoung berates himself for feeling as if anything has. Things should be exactly the same as they were before they started this whole thing, he reasons, and the only issue blocking that is the foolish thing called his heart caged in his chest aching for a person he never really had.

It’s stupid. He wants it to stop. But it refuses, like all annoying things do. 

Jaebum is Jaebum. He looks unfazed, unchanged, the same cool exterior with snapshots of warmth offered only to the people he likes. Jinyoung knows he’s overthinking it — but he starts to keep count of how many times Jaebum shows that warmth to him now, compared to before.

It’s much less. Approximately 43% less, if Jinyoung had to take a stab at numbers. He shouldn’t be surprised but it still stings, a mix of jealousy and arrogance and plummeting self-worth all at the same time. He can’t be as calm as Mark so naturally is, as cute and lively as Yugyeom, or as infectiously energetic as Jackson. 

He and Jaebum just _worked_. It took a few years of practice but they found it, and once upon a time he thought it was nameless because it was so special. Now he thinks it might be because he never really understood it. Like an unexplainable feeling that sweeps through the soul and empties you dry, but there’s no word in the dictionary to describe it. An absence of feeling. 

“Hello? Earth to Jinyoung?” Jackson’s spirited voice and the loud snapping in front of his face jostles Jinyoung out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he blinks, the sound of the crowded waiting room bleeding back into his senses. 

Jackson, bless his soul, doesn’t even look irritated at how Jinyoung clearly wasn’t listening to a word that he was saying. Actually, he looks concerned. And that’s not good, because that means Jinyoung might be being obvious and the last thing he wants is for the rest of his groupmates to find out what they’ve been doing. 

He doesn’t know _why_ he doesn’t want that. He just doesn’t. 

“Sorry, I’m just. Zoning out. Didn’t get much sleep,” he explains with a sheepish smile in hopes that it’ll quell Jackson’s worry. 

“You’ve been out of it a lot lately,” Jackson decides to say after a brief pause. His words are careful, gentle, pushing for more without being too pushy. It helps that they’re in the corner and generally being ignored since their hair and makeup is already done.

“Just trouble sleeping. I promise,” Jinyoung reassures him with a hand on his forearm. It’s technically true — he spends so much time thinking about what happened and trying to distract himself from his feelings that it doesn’t result in much sleep. 

“Okay, if you say so.” Jackson acquiesces then brightens. “I’ve got this great organic chamomile tea, supposed to help you calm down and sleep, want to try it?” Jinyoung bursts into a laugh and it feels good, god, when’s the last time he genuinely laughed like this? Jackson and his teas. Answer to the universe and any ailment possible. 

Behind Jackson, his eyes catch Jaebum’s sharp gaze. Unreadable. The laughter dies in his throat and his neck prickles hot. 

Jaebum, still looking at him, leans over to the group he was chatting with moments before and Jinyoung doesn’t have to hear him when he can read those lips. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

Yugyeom and Bambam’s eyes seem to bulge before they explore into raucous celebration. Even Mark is shouting out of surprise and the chaos, the clamor, the suggestive whooping hits him all at once.

Jinyoung had _heard_. From Youngjae actually, who had assumed he already knew and apologized when it became clear that he had not. Youngjae was concerned about Jaebum’s ability to keep things hidden and in his own earnest way, assumed that Jinyoung would be Jaebum’s keeper. 

The smartest one. The one best at hiding things. 

“I’m going to go see if soundcheck’s ready,” Jinyoung says mechanically and brushes off Jackson’s immediate concern by pushing him back down onto his seat by his shoulder. “Alone.”

He’s doing fine. Out of the room, into the hallway, maybe there’s a secluded bathroom he can pull himself together in. Except, fuck, the lights are starting to blur and he takes a sharp and discrete left turn into a supply closet instead. It’s blessedly unlocked, empty, and quiet. 

It’s fine. 

This is just like the closet Jaebum dragged him into, with wild eyes and a bitten mouth. 

But it’s fine. 

Jinyoung clenches his fist hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

Jaebum can see whomever he wants to see. He isn’t his. He has no right to this seething jealousy roiling inside of his chest, snakes curling around his ribs, venom leeching through his body and his blood. 

Turning, he rests his forehead against a shelf. And slams his palm once, twice, against the wall, hoping that the sting of it will stop his throat from seizing up and making it hard to breathe. 

It isn’t _fair_. If they had met some other way, in some other world, maybe things could be different. But if it was different, maybe then he wouldn’t be so foolishly in love. Their lives both created and contained them. He’s thankful, yet resentful. Jaebum is his in more ways than anyone else can have — but not his in the single way he wants the most. 

It’s when Jinyoung emits his first shaky sob that the door swings open and light, suddenly flooding in, has him looking up and flinching. Red eyes, wet cheeks. 

Jaebum in the doorway looking stricken at the sight of him. 

Before Jinyoung can say anything, Jaebum’s stepping into the dark with him and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. The kind that’s desperately trying to be enough to fix it all, even when it knows that it isn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Jinyoungie, I shouldn’t have said it like that. Told you like that. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Jinyoung, chest heaving and mind whirling, can only muster up the coherent thought that he missed Jaebum. His smell, his hold, his touch. All of it. 

“Hyung don’t. You shouldn’t apologize. It’s not — my business. It’s, you can do want you want. I shouldn’t be like this.”

Jaebum brings his forehead to his and brushes his cheeks with his thumbs. “That’s not the point,” he insists, hushed and fierce. “I knew how it’d make you feel. Hearing like that. I knew, I just. I wanted you to look at me.” 

It humbles Jinyoung, that maybe he isn’t the only one so twisted up here. He brings his own hands up to cup Jaebum’s palms and his own breathing steadily slows. He wouldn’t normally admit this — but he feels raw, exposed, as if there’s no point hiding right now.

“I’m always looking at you, Jaebum.” 

Jaebum doesn’t answer. He just pulls Jinyoung deeper into his hold and squeezes. With all their nights spent together, this might be the most intimate they’ve been. 

Jinyoung can’t tell if it’s minutes or hours that pass before both of their phones buzz with calls and it somehow means a lot that Jaebum doesn’t answer. Instead, he presses a kiss to the corner of Jinyoung’s eye and makes a promise that Jinyoung doesn’t really know the meaning of. 

“I’m going to show you, Park Jinyoung.”

\---

Jaebum buys him flowers. An ornate cluster of tiger lilies, sprays of lavender, puffs of off-white cotton and the smallest buds of red roses Jinyoung’s ever seen. He doesn’t give it in person but he does have it sent to Jinyoung’s dressing room during one of his solo schedules.

“How’d this get past security?” Jinyoung muses as he turns it here and there, examines the lovely thing with a tentative but pleased heart. 

“It came with a name,” their manager answers simply and Jinyoung stares at him for a very, very, long time. Sometimes, he thinks their managers know them better than they know themselves. Sometimes they hear about managers who sell secrets about the idols they work for. The ones who spread dating rumors. 

“Is that so,” Jinyoung hums as he strokes one of the fine petals. The vibrant orange makes the world feel brighter. 

“But if you asked me, I wouldn’t remember. You want a coffee?”

Jinyoung is practically beaming as he nods yes.

\---

Jackson calls it “monthly movie time.” Everyone knows it’s an excuse for them all to pile together on the sofa at one time, and usually it ends up so chaotic that they all miss the beginning of the film and they get sidetracked halfway through ordering takeout from the local Chinese-Korean place. Jinyoung prefers watching movies on his own with full attention but he likes this too, doesn’t mind it when the ones they pick are usually action flicks with flimsy plots and a lot of cool special effects.

There’s an unsaid seating arrangement they always follow too. Yugyeom and Bambam on the floor, Mark on the single seater, Jaebum on one end of the larger couch, Jinyoung on the other end, Youngjae between them, and Jackson squeezed next to whomever he targets that month. 

There’s a heated debate going on about the merits of jjangmyeon over jjampong when Jaebum finally shows up, fifteen minutes late. A few cheer, some grumble, and everything is going fine as usual — except when Jaebum gets to the couch he asks Youngjae if he minds scooting over.

Jinyoung greets him with a raised eyebrow. Jaebum smiles, and slings his arm around him for everyone else to see.

There are some curious glances but any possible questions are interrupted by Jackson turning the movie on. Jinyoung thinks he’s the one with the most questions because this is new and as much as he likes the weight of Jaebum’s arm on his shoulders, the tips of his finger skimming him as they sway, he doesn’t know what it means.

Ten minutes into the movie he’s leaning in to whisper into Jaebum’s ear. “What’re you doing?” is the best way he figured out how to word his flummoxed question. 

Jaebum leans in and whispers right back. “I’m showing you.” And pulls Jinyoung closer, effectively tucking him against his body. It isn’t so tight that Jinyoung couldn’t break away if he wanted to, and he doesn’t want to, but it’s close enough that it looks like something other than platonic cuddling. 

Like a couple. 

Nobody comments when the mid-movie break for food happens and they see them pressed against each other. It’s not tense, but Jinyoung can still tell there’s a touch of confusion lingering in the air as they chatter about what to order and if anyone’s willing to share. At least until Mark pipes up from his seat, the first word he’s uttered tonight —

“Jaebum-ah, are you just going to sit there and paw at Jinyoung all night or are you going to tell us what you wanna eat?” 

The uproar from the burn — coos of _savage_ filling the air — lift a weight that Jinyoung didn’t know existed off of his stomach. He smiles, laughs even, at the way Jaebum turns red and splutters about how they should know his usual order and he’s being totally family appropriate here. 

“We’re eating food, not people,” Jackson shouts and he’s too slow to escape from Jaebum’s headlock and soon enough they’re wrestling on the living room floor. 

Jinyoung catches a look from Mark and freezes. Mark nods, the slightest thing, and starts poking at Jaebum’s side with his toe with an annoyed look. “Hey, break it up, we need to order and you can’t kill Jackson before he pays for it,” he chides and Yugyeom brandishes Jackson’s wallet as a solution. “Don’t worry, I got his card.”

Jinyoung can’t stop smiling all night.

\---

There’s an envelope sitting on Jinyoung’s desk one day and he doesn’t know what it is until he slides the well worn paper out.

It’s the rules they wrote. 

Except, there are some changes in red ink.

> _We, Im Jaebum and Park Jinyoung, hereby agree to the following rules._
> 
> _1. ~~We will not kiss.~~ I will kiss you everytime I see you, because I don’t see you enough. I’ll kiss you in front of anyone we want to be open around. I’ll kiss you and no one else.  
>  2\. ~~It will not be reciprocal.~~ I’ll make you as happy as you make me.  
>  3\. ~~We will not go all the way.~~ I’ll make love to you. I know you’re going to say that’s cheesy, but it’s more than sex for me. You’re more than that to me. _

  
And, squeezed underneath:  


> _I, Im Jaebum, agree to hold up to all of the promises listed here. I swear that I’m serious. I’m ready to tell the world if that’s what we want to do. I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t want to be so scared of losing you, that I deny myself the chance to have you. To have a life together._
> 
> _I’m already yours and I’m ready. I tried to show you that. Please sign if you want to be mine._

  
Below their original signatures, Jaebum’s scribbled two new lines and filled one in with his own.

The next morning, bright and early, Jinyoung raps his knuckles on Jaebum’s bedroom door with the letter in hand. Jaebum answers with bleary eyes — a bit stunned, a bit hopeful, obviously didn’t get much sleep. Jinyoung doesn’t look well rested himself but there’s a set determination in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Please read this.” He hands the paper out for Jaebum to take. “And please read rule number four.”

Jaebum nods, and seems to realize that there wasn't originally a rule number four, so he opens it with some trepidation. First he sees Jinyoung’s signature filling where he’d left the blank space and his heart starts pounding frantically. His gaze slides up and the moment Jinyoung sees the realization hit him, he bats the contract out of Jaebum’s hands and pulls him into a kiss. 

It’s rough, romantic, searing — it’s perfect and imperfect all at once, but it’s theirs and that’s what matters most. 

“I didn’t know you were such a poet,” Jinyoung grins and Jaebum groans, tries to distract him by fulfilling rule one properly and kissing those plush lips until they bruise red. “I spent a lot of time on that,” Jaebum grumbles and Jinyoung is so pleased he pushes him onto the bed with clear pleasure and follows after, falling with him. 

It’s sweet, so sweet, to kiss for the sake of kissing. 

“Do you swear to rule four too, Jaebum?” Jinyoung murmurs against Jaebum’s ear and Jaebum squeezes him so tight and so fierce it feels like he’ll never let go. “I swear, Jinyoung.”

“Good.” They both melt. Maybe the entire world doesn’t need to know, but whatever happens — they’re in it together. They have each other.

They have — love.

> _4\. I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all of the kind words and support. this really ballooned into something bigger and i'm pleased at how it came out.
> 
> and, i have twitter now! follow me, i'd love to get to know more people around here! [@roasthoneyed](https://twitter.com/roasthoneyed)


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